


Inside and Out

by Aquade



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, LadyNoir - Freeform, Marichat, Slightly Aged up, Slow Burn, adrienette - Freeform, ladrien, love square
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9093211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquade/pseuds/Aquade
Summary: “We’ve known each other for years now. It makes sense that we were able to pick each other out from the thousands of civilians that reside in Paris, doesn’t it? That both of us fell for each other all over again?” There was silence for a moment before a smile graced the night. “Yeah, I guess it does.” It’s been years since the fateful first meeting when the name of Chat Noir and Ladybug was first heard on the streets of Paris. Adrien finds himself drawn to the girl who had sat behind him for so long, and Ladybug begins to notice the boy who’s always been by her side, reaching into all corners of the love square in this story of ice-cream, balconies, late night rambles, and the never-ending cycle of falling in love.DISCONTINUED READ AT OWN RISK





	1. The Internet is No Help When It Comes to Solving Your Problems

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This chapter consists mentions of addictions. I apologize if this triggers anyone, or if anyone feels like addictions are being made fun of in this chapter. Addictions are to be taken seriously, and I'm not trying to undermine this. If you have any complaints, I'll be happy to take them into consideration if you say so in a message or a review.

 

     ADRIEN AGRESTE WAS IN LOVE WITH HIS BEST FRIEND.

     There, he admitted it. Step one complete. That wasn’t too bad, really. Why had he put it off all this time? He read the next line, frowning at the strange phrasing and modifying it to fit his own needs.

     _Step 2: Believe in something greater than yourself._

     Adrien hummed, pondering and scratching his nose. _Something greater than himself?_ There were plenty of things that fit the criteria, but which one of those was directly related to his problem?

     _Politics?_ For some reason or another, that was the first word that entered his mind, and he shuddered. _Something else, something more related to him_. He glanced around the room, hoping for inspiration to hit. _Fashion? Modeling?_ His eyes fell on the heart-shaped card taped beside his computer monitors.

     _Love?_ The thought came unbidden, sudden and unexpected, and yet it _made so much sense_.

     Plagg munched on some Camembert. The faint hum of the CPU filled his room. And Adrien mused, pursing his lips. _Love was certainly bigger and greater than himself._ Then he grinned. Well, he already believed in love, so that was Step Two completed, right? Yeah, definitely. So on to Step Three then.

     _Step 3: Make a decision to change._

     Adrien blinked, scratching his forehead in confusion before resting his cheek against his hand. “A decision to change?” he voiced aloud. “Change what?”

     At the sound of his charge’s voice, Plagg drifted over, having consumed his cheese. He peered at the screen thoughtfully. “12-Step Program?” he read aloud. “What for?”

     “To solve your problems,” Adrien told him absentmindedly, finally deciding to ignore the third step and continue. “I’m on Step 3.”

     Plagg stared at him, then at the screen, then at him again. “You got a problem I don’t know about?” His voice was level, unusually serious.

     Adrien stared right back at him in confusion. _Hadn’t Plagg been listening to the hour-long rants_ …? “You know,” he began slowly, “about Marinette?”

     Sure, he and Marinette hadn’t been the closest back in collège. There was a moment that Adrien feared the incident when they had first met would taint their friendship forever, since Marinette never seemed comfortable around him, but that stopped after a year or so. Instead, they had grown closer, and he had found a type of solitude and peace in her that he didn’t know he was missing for years.

     Besides, the fact that they had a lot in common and her parents could bake excellent pastries didn’t hurt.

     Plagg deflated, and Adrien could have sworn he heard a relieved sigh. “Oh. I thought it was something serious—”

     “This _is_ serious!” Adrien interrupted, arms flailing and not bothering his kwami in the slightest.

     “—so why are you reading a program about overcoming addictions?” Plagg finished.

     “I— _what?_ ” Adrien quickly scrolled up to read the title of the page again, groaning when he read that, _yes_ , indeed, the 12-Step program was utilized to overcome addictions. “For goodness sakes! I spent an hour on this article!”

     “It was clearly a very wasted hour,” Plagg noted dryly. “As you seem to have completely missed a very important fact that could have saved you a lot of time.”

     “Stop rubbing it in!”

     Adrien huffed, exiting the page and turning to the next one. _HOW TO SOLVE A PROBLEM: 6 QUICK AND SIMPLE TIPS._ Plagg floated over, choosing to hover directly in front of Adrien’s line of sight. “Hey, this one looks good.”

     “And since when did you care?” Adrien asked, shoving him to the side. He scrolled down. “Wasn’t cheese the only important thing in your life?”

     “I don’t” came the answer. “And it is. But I _am_ invested in the comic relief of this whole situation.”

     Adrien wisely chose to ignore him, reading the tips. “Step one, ‘Ask yourself: Is there really a problem here?’” He scoffed. “Well, of course there is. Why wouldn’t there be?”

     “Didn’t Alya say that the best romances are born from friendship?” Plagg noted in a surprisingly wise move.

     “Yeah, but it doesn’t apply to me.”

     “And explain to me again exactly _why_ this is a problem?”

     “B—because!” Adrien stuttered, looking entirely flabbergasted Plagg would even ask such a question. “She’s practically my best friend! I can’t fall in love with her. It’ll ruin our entire relationship. And then she’ll hate me forever—”

     “I don’t think she’s capable of hating someone.”

     “—and I’ll lose one of my friends. And it’ll be one of my biggest regrets—Oww! Plagg!”

     “I had to do _something_ to stop your yammering.”

     “You didn’t have to throw the pencil at me!” Adrien protested, rubbing his head.

     Plagg shot him a deadpan look. “You’ll live. Now, realize that the whole ‘ruin our entire relationship’ thing didn’t really stop you with Ladybug.”

     “That’s different,” Adrien said immediately, before backing down at Plagg’s unamused gaze. “Well, maybe not really. But you saw how Ladybug reacted.”

     “I’m not sure what you’re seeing, kid, but I think you need your eyes checked if you don’t see a really strong friendship between you two. _Despite_ your feelings for her.”

     “But that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?” Adrien pressed. “My feelings for Ladybug, I mean. I _know_ we aren’t dating or anything like that, but I feel like I’m cheating on her or something.”

     “Kid, you’re not cheating on anybody you don’t have a relationship with. Besides, you’re a teenage boy. It’s normal for this to happen.”

     “I’m hardly a teenager anymore, Plagg.” Adrien sighed. “I never really felt like one anyway. Besides, what teen has to manage a double life anyway?”

     “If your age still has a teen on it, you’re a teen in my book.”

     Adrien chuckled, exiting the page and opening another one. “Hey, this one looks promising. ‘5 Ways to Solve All Your Problems.’”

     “Sounds like a scam to me,” Plagg stated immediately. “Skip it.”

     “Don’t be so pessimistic,” Adrien chided. “Here, One: Solve Your Problem.” He briefly scanned the short paragraphs under the bolded words. It’s basically saying face your problems and stop procrastinating them.”

     “Well, you’re doing an _excellent_ job of that.”

     “Hey! I’m researching, aren’t I? I’m getting there,” Adrien protested, pouting slightly.

     “After years of being in love with her,” Plagg added with a roll of his eyes.

     Adrien frowned. “What do you mean ‘years’? I haven’t been—” He cut himself off abruptly, eyes widening. “Oh,” he said softly.

     “About time you realized,” Plagg murmured.

     “You could have _told_ me!”

     “I wouldn’t want to touch the mess that is your love life with a ten foot pole! Besides, watching you fret is hilarious! So you tell me, why would I have?”

     Adrien muttered something very unflattering under his breath, reading the next bolded sentence. “’Avoid the problem?’” he exclaimed. “What type of advice is _that_?” He closed the window before groaning and exiting out of the browser altogether, going as far as to switch off the computer.

     “The type that you’ve been following for the past few years,” Plagg noted dryly, phasing into and out of random drawers. “Say, kid, where do you keep the cheese in this gigantic room of yours?”

     Adrien crossed his arms, his chin up as he imitated Plagg’s tone of voice. “And why would I tell you?” he asked rhetorically. “It’s fun to see you so agitated and _whizzing_ about, trying to find something you’ll never find.”

     “Why you—”

* * *

Next time on Inside and Out:

_Now despite what Alya said, Marinette was quite certain that falling in love with your best friend wasn’t exactly the wisest choice. For one, there was the fact that they were your best friend, and there was always the chance that the dynamic you had would never return to the way it used to. And, quite frankly, that was a terrifying thought, because, well, she had known Chat Noir for years now, trusting him with her life on a nearly daily basis._

_So that was really the question, wasn’t it? She trusted him with her life, but could she trust him with her heart?_

 


	2. Why Does He Have to Be a Complete Gentleman and Make It So Hard For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: The following chapter has been kindly beta'd by wonderfulwizardofthozz on FFN. :)

     BEFORE A FEW YEARS AGO, MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG COULD SAY SHE HAD NEVER FALLEN FOR HER BEST FRIEND – NO IFS, ANDS, OR BUTS ABOUT IT.

     Of course that was merely a fact in the days of old and not one that could stand now: Because Marinette Dupain-Cheng had come to the conclusion that she might have a tiny, miniscule, too-small-to-even-worry-about crush on Chat Noir.

     Now despite what Alya said, Marinette was quite certain that falling in love with your best friend wasn’t exactly the wisest choice. For one, there was the fact that they were your _best friend_ , and there was always the chance that the dynamic you had would never return to the way it used to. And, quite frankly, that was a terrifying thought, because, well, she had known Chat Noir for years now, trusting him with her life on a nearly daily basis.

     So that was really the question, wasn’t it? She trusted him with her life, but could she trust him with her heart?

     “Bugaboo?”

     And then there was also that small problem applying directly to Marinette – how she turned into a stammering, blushing fool even in the mere _presence_ of her crush. Like, take a few years previous, her turning into a stuttering _mess_ whenever she had even _breathed_ near one Adrien Agreste’s vicinity. She shuddered in mortification to think of it. Luckily for her, she had managed to outgrow the habit… at least around Adrien.

     The crush she had for him? Not so much.

     “My Lady?”

     She didn’t really want to test if she had outgrown that habit all together on Chat Noir. Feelings for her black cat was new, they were frightening, and Marinette wasn’t exactly certain that they were all that _bad_ at all. Besides, on the off-chance it failed, she would never be able to live it down if she interacted with Chat Noir the same way she did with Adrien back in collège. That would be _horrible._

     “Ladybug!”

     She startled at the sudden noise, mouthing foul expletives as she stumbled in her landing and careening off the roof until a hand that seized her wrist and pulled her back. “Chat,” she stated calmly once she got to her feet before exploding, “don’t scare me like that!”

     “I didn’t _mean_ to!” he protested, crossing his arms. (Ladybug was mildly aware that this was a _horrible_ time to notice that he had a _very_ nice chest.) “I’ve been trying to catch your attention for the past five minutes!”

     She tore her eyes away, giggling weakly. “R-really? Right, sorry, my bad.”

     Silence ascended upon them for a while before Chat broke it. “Penny for your thoughts?” he offered, somehow producing a penny in his hand and offering it to Ladybug. She wasn’t entirely sure how he managed to get one in France, but she sure wasn’t going to question it either.

     She took the coin instead, a warmth bubbling in her chest as she laughed. “My thoughts are worth much more than that, Chaton.”

     He snapped his fingers, sighing. “Alas, I should have known better than to underestimate the cost of my Lady’s innermost ponderings.”

     She shook her head, a smile tugging her lips. “You dork.”

     “Ah, but I’m _your_ dork, aren’t I?” Chat sobered. “Are you really all right?”

     She nodded. “Yeah, just lost in my thoughts for a moment. Come on, Chat, we gotta complete this patrol.” She swung her yo-yo in the general direction of the Eiffel Tower. “Last one to Notre-Dame buys ice-cream for the other!” And then, with a simple tug, she was gone, flying over the streets of Paris.

     Chat Noir’s protest reached her ears – “That’s not fair, my Lady!”— but Ladybug could tell that he was already giving chase.

     She laughed, swinging herself higher and further with each thrust of the yo-yo. There were times when Chat Noir would pull ahead of her, but she always caught up and overtook him. Soon, she could see Notre-Dame in the distance, eyes automatically honing in on their usual spot. One more last throw and…

     A black blur came up rapidly on her right, overtaking her easily and pouncing on a lamppost. Ears twitched towards her as his lips stretched in a wide, smug grin. “I win, my Lady!”

     She huffed, landing on the street next to his post, a wry smile on her lips. “Fine,” she admitted. “I suppose you did.” Then she laughed, because he was grinning at her from his perch, green eyes wide and excited. “But I demand a rematch later!”

     She was just about to swing her yo-yo once more and head back home when he jumped down directly in front of her. “Wait!”

     Ladybug stumbled backwards, scanning the surroundings for any sign of trouble. “What?”

     “What about ice-cream?” He gazed at her, a pout on his lips, and she couldn’t help grimacing.

     “Chat … next time? I don’t have any money with me right now.” Her suit held no pockets for her to keep anything in, and even if she detransformed, she had left her purse in her room. She smiled apologetically. “I won’t back out on the deal, I promise.”

     “Oh, I know,” he said, swinging an arm around her. “But I still want ice-cream. Come on, my treat?”

     She glanced at him in surprise. He smiled back hopefully, eyes pleading. Well, she still had time, didn’t she? Her parents were already in bed, since they had to open the bakery, and no one would be checking on her for hours. She had already finished all her homework as well, and her new design could wait another day…

     “Okay.”

     “R-really?” Ladybug had never seen him grin so widely.

      She laughed, teasing, “Yes, but only because you’re buying.”

     “O-okay.” Chat Noir was practically bouncing. “I—meet you at the park? If we’re lucky – which I know _you_ are – there should still be a stand there and we might catch it before it closes. I got some loose change with me, which should be enough.”

     She swung her yo-yo in the general direction of the park. “Sure. Coming, Chaton?”

     They made it to the park in good time, just managing to catch the ice-cream stand before it closed – “That luck was all you, my Lady.” – and it helped matters that the owner was quite pleased to serve Paris’ heroes. They refused to take the ice cream free, Chat practically dumping all the change he had – “My civilian self isn’t lacking in money. There’re other people who could use it better than I could.” – into the man’s hand before they both hightailed it out of there, careful not to let their ice-cream fall.

     They settled on a roof, perching on the ledge as their legs dangled down, occasionally kicking each other gently just for the fun of it, trying to topple the other down. Eating the last of her ice-cream cone, Ladybug sighed. “Hey, Chat?”

     He gave an acknowledging hum.

     “Thanks for the ice-cream.”

     He turned to her, surprise on his features. “You don’t need to thank me for something like that, my Lady. It was my pleasure.”

     And because he was being so sweet and she wanted to, she kissed him on the cheek, watching as he blushed immediately. “Yeah, well, I want to thank you anyway. This was fun. We should do it again.” She gazed out into the lit streets for a moment before getting up. “It’s getting late. We should catch some sleep before school tomorrow.”

     He clambered to his feet as well, and Ladybug could just make out the faint traces of the blush. “R-right. Good night, my Lady.”

     “Night, Chaton.”

     With that, she swung her yo-yo once more, heading in the direction of the bakery. Behind her, the telltale _plunk!_ of Chat Noir’s baton hitting the street reached her ears, heading in the opposite direction. She circled around the park for a moment, checking the streets one last time before landing on her balcony and detransforming. She stared out at the streets, wondering if Chat had made it home already as well. “Good night, Chaton.”

 

 

     An hour and a half later, Marinette was sitting by her desk, pictures of Adrien in front of her and a Google Image search of Chat Noir on her computer monitor. Tikki nibbled on a cookie next to her, staring up at the screen before glancing at her holder. “Alya would say you have a type,” she noted.

     “I know!” Marinette wailed, burying her face in her arms. “I mean, _look at them_ – blond hair, green eyes. Actually, are Chat’s eyes really green?”

     “Yes,” Tikki informed her. “The miraculous transformation just gives them the power of a cat. It does not change their eye color. So if Chat had, say, blue eyes, his eyes would be mostly blue.”

     Marinette shook her head. “But that doesn’t solve anything. If any, it just makes it worse!”

     “They do look remarkably similar. Didn’t Alya once say that Adrien could be Chat Noir?”

     “Oh, that would solve all my problems…” Marinette sighed wistfully before heaving out a loud breath. “But that’s impossible.”

     “Really? Why?”

     Marinette snatched a cookie from the platter. “Because! Adrien is … well … Adrien, and Chat is … well … Chat!” She waved the cookie in the air to emphasize her point.

     Tikki sent her a pointed look. “And?”

     “And?” Marinette repeated dumbly. “And Adrien is kind and handsome and polite and well-mannered and, actually, really, really dorky, but Chat is annoying and – gosh – tells the _worst_ jokes and has the worst timing and, and—”

     “And?” Tikki asked again, a knowing gleam in her eyes.

     Marinette frowned, looking away. “And he’s also kind and a dork, and he can really be a gentleman when the time calls for it— _Oh_.” She cut herself off, staring into the air with wide eyes. “Oh. My. Gosh.”

     Tikki floated up in front of her eagerly. “Yes? You realized something?”

     Marinette cupped her kwami in her palms, utmost seriousness in her voice. “Tikki, I totally have a type.”

     Tikki blinked once, twice. “ _What_?”

     Marinette released her, grabbing a random picture of Adrien and putting it beside an enlarged image of Chat. “Tikki, _look_. They have blond hair and green eyes and are complete dorks and are really kind and somewhat well-mannered … and _I have a type_.”

     “I’m not really following, Marinette.”

     “Tikki, don’t you see? They both share those traits in common, and apparently, I’m drawn to that, because I’ve obviously fallen for the both of them, haven’t I?” She continued softly, “I didn’t know I had a type before today. No wonder my other crushes didn’t have such a strong reaction or ever lasted that long.”

     Tikki nodded slowly. “So, is that the only thing you’ve realized?”

     “You mean aside from the fact that I have a type and probably a crush on Chat Noir? No. Should I?”

     Tikki sighed, shaking her head. “No, no, just … wondering if I missed anything from your rant.” She grabbed another cookie.

     “ _I do not rant!_ ”

* * *

Next time on _Inside and Out:_

 _Disgruntled at his loss, Adrien sulked back to Marinette. "I made a wrong choice choosing the both of you as friends." He sniffed, glaring pointedly at Alya and Nino. They rolled their eyes at his dramatics. Adrien turned to Marinette, a thoughtful look on his face. "But I sure didn't_ macaron choice when I chose you."

_Marinette froze. Adrien grinned. Then she swore and glared. “Did you just…”_


	3. OMG He Stared at Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter was beta'd by wonderfulwizardofthozz and socksareforcavemen.

     IN THE MORNING LIGHT, MARINETTE’S THOUGHTS FROM THE NIGHT BEFORE DISSAPATED.

     Oh, who was she kidding? She _couldn’t_ be falling for _Chat Noir_ of all people, even though he was really sweet and kind and– _stop this train of thought right now, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, before you dig yourself into an even deeper hole_.

     Thoughts satisfied for now, she quickly typed out a message in their group chat.

     **Marinette:** _Meet at the front of the theatre?_

     She had shrugged on her jacket, and settled Tikki into her purse when her phone buzzed again. She absentmindedly unlocked the screen, an eye reading the messages as she tied her hair into pigtails.

     **Adrien:** _I’ll be there in fifteen._

 **Alya:** _Girl, we always meet there. Y r u even asking by this point?_

She huffed out a laugh, deciding against a reply and instead heading downstairs. As she descended into the bakery, she called, “Mama, Papa, I’m heading out now!”

     Tom Dupain handed her a small box as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “For your friends.”

     Marinette peeked into the bag, gasping at the sight of macarons. “ _Papa,_ you know we can’t bring food in for the movie!”

     Her father winked. “You’ve got a pretty big purse and a jacket. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

     “Papa!” Marinette protested, but she was laughing just as loud as he was.

     “Tom!” Sabine’s sharp voice floated from the top of the stairs. “Don’t tell me you’re being a bad influence again! You gave Marinette the macarons, didn’t you? After I specifically told you not to?”

     Tom mimicked a particularly horrified face, shooing Marinette out, the box in her arms. “Go, go! Get away before your mother catches up.”

     “Tom!” Sabine called once more, footsteps heard on the stairs, but Marinette was already gone, her scarf firmly around her neck and a smile stretching her lips.

     “Your parents are fun,” Tikki said from where she had floated up into the scarf at the nearest opportunity.

     “My parents are bad, bad people,” Marinette joked. “Encouraging these law-breaking habits.”

     Tikki giggled, accepting the macaron Marinette offered her. “As Plagg would say, some rules are meant to be broken.”

     “Who’s Plagg?” Marinette munched on a macaron herself.

     “Chat Noir’s kwami.”

     Marinette didn’t know why she was so surprised; of course he had a kwami! How else could he transform? Before she could question Tikki further, her eyes caught Nino’s from where he was waiting by the front of the entrance. She sped up, slowing to a stop near him. “Hey, been waiting long?”

     Nino shook his head. “Nah, I literally just arrived a minute ago.” He nodded towards the box in Marinette’s arms. “What’s in the box?”

     Marinette flipped the cover open, silently offering him one. “Macarons. Papa gave then to me when I left.”

     “He _does_ know we’re going to the theatres, right?” Nino questioned, but he took one anyway. “Hey, these are really good.”

     “That’s what I told him!” Marinette exclaimed, and Tikki giggled just loud enough for it to reach her ears. “But you know Papa. And you say that every time you eat something from the patisserie.”

     “Not my fault if they’re so good,” Nino mumbled from a mouthful of macarons, taking another. “I should really come to the patisserie more often.”

     “Taking advantage of Tom and Sabine’s hospitality?” Alya said before Marinette could retort, walking up to them. “You know they’ll give something to you for free, whether it be a few macarons or a slice of cake or _something_.”

     Nino pointed a macaron at Marinette. “And _that_ is why I like your parents so much.”

     “Nino!” Marinette protested through laughs.

     “What can I say? My favor is easy to be bought.”

     “You’re _horrible_.”

     “Who’s horrible?” Adrien asked, joining the little group. “Oh, hey, are those macarons?”

     “Nino is,” Alya informed him, waving at the box. “And go ahead and help yourself.”

     Marinette nodded to enforce the invitation when Adrien glanced at her. “Go ahead, if we can’t finish these before the movie, we’re really going to have to sneak them in.”

     “ _Marinette!_ ” Alya hushed. “Don’t say that where _they_ can hear you.” She sent a suspicious look towards the theatre. “The operation won’t succeed if we’re compromised.”

     “Alya!” Marinette shoved the box into Adrien’s arms before throwing her hands into the air, glaring when Nino and Alya high-fived each other. “Why am I friends with you two?”

     “Because you love us,” Alya said, slinging an arm across Marinette’s shoulders and refusing to budge. “And you know it.”

     To enforce it, Nino and Alya both gave her a kiss on the cheek, making her giggle and push them away. "You’re horrible,” she stated, but a grin stretched her lips. “Now hurry up at finish those macarons before Adrien beats you to the punch.”

     Eyes snapped to the happy boy, who had crumbs next to his mouth and wide eyes at Alya’s and Nino’s glares. He looked down at the easily half-empty box and grinned sheepishly before sending a mock glare Marinette’s way. “Marinette, how could you betray me like that?” he whined.

     Marinette scoffed, watching Alya and Nino try to wrestle the box from Adrien with amusement. In a surprisingly nimble move, the blond twisted the box from their hold, stuffing a macaron into his mouth and _dancing_ with the box just out of their reach. “All mine!” he crowed triumphantly, sticking a tongue out at Alya and Nino.

     Marinette stifled a laugh as he nimbly sidestepped any attempts at seizing the box, throwing taunts all the while. People were starting to stare, but her lips still stretched into a fond smile, because, well, Adrien really reminded her of Chat right then, taunting the akumas with an easy grin on his face and a pun on his lips. At that moment, Nino and Alya tag teamed – Nino tripping Adrien and Alya grabbing the macarons as he tried to find his balance.

     Disgruntled at his loss, Adrien sulked back to Marinette. “I made a wrong choice choosing the both of you as friends.” He sniffed, glaring pointedly at Alya and Nino. They rolled their eyes at his dramatics. Adrien turned to Marinette, a thoughtful look on his face. “But I sure didn’t _macaron_ choice when I chose you.”

     Marinette froze. Adrien grinned. Then she swore and glared. “Did you just…”

     “Aw, what’s wrong? Afraid that I macaron choice when I punned?”

      “Now, using the same pun twice is against the rules,” Nino stated, the last of the box having been consumed. “You know that.”

     “Don’t encourage this!” Marinette protested, but it fell on deaf ears.

     Adrien sighed. “Yeah, but it’s hard to make sweet puns with ‘macaron’, you know.”

     “Good point.”

     “Are we ever going to watch the movie?” Marinette sent them all a deadpan look.

     With that, the four traipsed into the theatre, disposing the box in a conveniently placed trashcan. In the heated air, Marinette carefully took off her scarf, holding it next to her purse so that Tikki could phase into her usual spot. She linked arms with Alya. “We’ll take care of the snacks if you two get the tickets,” she offered.

      It was quickly agreed upon, and, with the tasks spread out between the two groups, they quickly made their way into one of the theatre rooms, settling in their seats and joking with each other as they waited for the movie to start.

     “So Adrien,” Alya started, “Star Trek or Star Wars?”

     “I don’t think this is the right place to ask, especially when we’re here to watch Rogue One,” Marinette pointed out mildly, with Adrien replying, “Star Trek,” immediately after.

     Marinette sighed, and Alya exploded. “ _What?_ ”

     Adrien shrugged. “I mean, I don’t really mind Star Wars that much – I’m here after all – but I never got the whole point of it. Star Trek is clearly superior.”

     “How could you say that?” Alya began in what was clearly going to be a long rant. Marinette and Nino exchanged exasperated looks. “Star Trek is _nothing_ compared to Star Wars. Tell him, Mari.”

     “Honestly, I like both of them,” Marinette said neutrally before sending Alya a pointed look and pushing her back into her seat. “Now sit down, the movie is starting. You can tell us all about why Star Wars is better later.”

     “Fine,” Alya conceded, “but only because the movie is starting. And I will not forget about this.”

     It didn’t take long for the movie to begin, but Marinette found herself with the problem of _not being able to focus._ She supposed it had something to do with Adrien sitting _right next to her_ , and it taking everything she had not to freak out, non-existent crush on Chat Noir be damned. Her eyes strayed towards Adrien’s profile, darting away in surprise when blue met green. Heat crawled up her neck, and she was a thousand times grateful that the dim light made it unnoticeable.

     As riveting as Rogue One was, however, Marinette’s thoughts began to wander. She gnawed on her lip thoughtfully, a question on her mind. Why had Adrien been staring at her?

     ….maybe he liked her?

     Marinette had to keep herself from chortling, although there was a mild heaviness on her chest now. _Yeah, right, he doesn’t think of me like that. We’re best friends, nothing more._ So…why else could he be looking at her?

     ….was there something on her face?

     Oh gosh, it was probably something on her face, wasn’t it? What was it, a bug? A stray piece of popcorn in her hair? W-what if it was even … _gum_?

     Not knowing was killing her. As subtly as possible, she elbowed Alya, causing the other girl to glare at her murderously. (Alya was one hell of a Star Wars fan.) “Is there something on my face? Or in my hair?”

     The lighting was dim and she could barely make out Alya’s glasses glinting in the glare of the movie, but if Adrien could see what was on her face, she had faith that Alya could too.

     Alya gave her an onceover (because what else were best friends for) before shaking her head. “There’s nothing there. Now hush, it’s getting to a good part.”

      For all the fretting, Marinette hadn’t been expecting that answer.

     She sighed through her nose, stubbornly focusing on the movie, not wanting mull over Adrien’s gaze (he was probably just glancing her way anyway) nor wanting to glance at him again (because if she did, she didn’t know if she’d be able to look away), but eventually, her eyes darted to the left again, once more meeting green immediately. She couldn’t snap her eyes away fast enough, hoping he hadn’t seen her blush … or her staring, for that matter. Why had he been staring at her?

     She couldn’t _dare_ allow herself to hope, but the question rose up anyway:

     Had Adrien been … watching her?

     Because, well, there was a difference between staring, glancing, and watching, wasn’t it? Staring meant that he was probably thinking hard about something, whether it be him lost in his own mind or something on Marinette’s face. Glancing meant that it was just a cursory look, no meaning to it at all. And watching? Well, watching was a different territory, because it meant that he was looking at her just for the sake of looking – almost as if he liked her.

     But that was preposterous.

     And yet, she couldn’t help it when her eyes darted to the left again, once more meeting green immediately. This time, she kept staring, watching Adrien cough awkwardly, his eyes tearing away to focus on the screen.

     What was the saying again? Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, and thrice is, well, you get the gist.

     So…had Adrien been watching her?

     The answer to that was surprisingly, “Yes.”

     For the rest of the movie, butterflies fluttered in her stomach – “ _Digest_ them,” she could hear Alya’s voice saying – and every nerve on her body was hyperaware of Adrien’s eyes on her.

     ….she was never getting out of this movie theatre alive.

* * *

 

Next time on _Inside and Out:_

_Adrien Agreste, you are the smoothest person I have ever had the privilege to meet._

_**Not.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me in a comment if you'd like to see Adrien or Marinette find out about the other's alter ego first!


	4. Watering Cans Aren't Nice to Be Hit With

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to wonderfulwizardofthozz and socksareforcavemen for editing this chapter.

_ADRIEN AGRESTE, YOU ARE THE SMOOTHEST PERSON I HAVE EVER HAD THE PRIVILEGE TO MEET._

**Not.**

So what if Adrien Agreste couldn't keep his cool even just watching a movie with friends? It was no problem; he couldn't be suave all the time. Besides, didn't girls like it when boys showed their vulnerable side once in a while and blushed and stammered and all that?

Yeah.

…..

Oh, who was he kidding?

Adrien let out a groan, burying his face in his pillow. "This is getting me nowhere," he mumbled.

Plagg hovered uncertainly. "Is this about your love life again?"

There was silence before a very reluctant "…yes."

"So, Marinette, huh?" Plagg tried before scoffing, shaking his head. "Oh, whatever, I'm horrible at this." With that, he flew over to his plate of Camembert, ignoring Adrien when the boy sat up, hair a mess and a determined look on his face.

"I like Marinette Dupain-Cheng," he spoke into the air.

"Not a bad person to like. She brings over great cheese tarts."

"But I also like Ladybug," Adrien continued slowly, swinging his legs off the bed. "Just, not as much as I used to, I guess, but like not really."

"You started to appreciate her more as a friend," Plagg noted helpfully.

"Yeah, that." Adrien flopped onto his couch. "So…what do I do?"

"…. _why_ in the _world_ are you asking _me_?"

Adrien let out an unintelligible sound. "I don't know! You're the only one I can talk to about this!"

"Oh." Plagg stuffed a slice of cheese into his mouth. "Right."

"You're no help."

"Oh, you finally realized that. Great."

" _Plagg_."

" _Adrien_ ," Plagg replied in the same tone before huffing. "What do you want me to say? I don't know, uh, who do you like better?"

"I think I like them both the same," Adrien replied softly. "Well, maybe Ladybug more, since I've loved her for so long. I don't think my feelings for Marinette are quite there yet, but it could be."

"You're not making it easy to help you," Plagg hissed before sighing. "Then pick Ladybug. You like her more, don't you?"

"Well, _yeah_ , I guess," Adrien said, arms dangling off the back of the couch as he kneeled on it to see Plagg better. "But Ladybug has never returned my advances. Why should she now?"

"Then pick Marinette," Plagg said just as easily. "Go woo her or something. Visit her on her balcony. Girls love that thing. Have for over a century."

"First of all, I can't admit you used the word ' _woo_ '," Adrien started. "Secondly, I can't _woo_ her! I don't know how!"

Plagg sent him a look. "Then what have you been using this whole time with Ladybug?"

"Not _wooing_ , since it very _clearly_ did not work." Adrien sighed. "In my defense, it's not from lack of effort from my part."

"Well, you tried," Plagg said bluntly, although not uncaringly.

Adrien was about to retort when his eye caught the time, and he blanched, nearly falling off the couch. "Shoot, Plagg, it's my turn for patrol tonight and if we don't get going now, I'm not going to make it back in time to finish up that essay."

Plagg's eyes darted over to the half-empty plate. "Wait! At least let me finish the—"

"Plagg, transforme moi!"

In a flash of green, Adrien Agreste disappeared, and Chat Noir stood in his place. Having learned from mistakes, he entered his bathroom to turn on the shower, locking the door before bouncing out the window. More than likely, no one would be searching for him, but just in case…

Chat Noir vaulted over the Parisian rooftops with a grin. If it had been day, he would have let out a loud whoop or two, but he didn't think the locals would appreciate that at this time of night, even if he _was_ one of their heroes. He might not be meeting Ladybug during this patrol, but it didn't mean that he didn't enjoy himself. There was something about the cool night air and the feeling of free-fall that speed his heart and high lightened his nerves.

And completely destroyed all his rational thinking, because _how else was he supposed to explain why he found himself across the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie near midnight?_

He wasn't, really. And, if he had to be honest, he didn't know why he had ended up there anyway.

But he was. And since the deed's already been done, he might as well see it through, right? Wasn't that how it went?

Moving on.

His night vision could make out a figure on Marinette's balcony, and upon closer look, Chat confirmed that it was indeed Marinette. She was staring out into the distance, seemingly lost in thought, but all Chat would think was _why in the world is she out at this time of the night?_

So naturally, he vaulted over to land behind her.

And was immediately met with a watering can to the face. And then what felt like a porcelain cup to the shin. He had time to think ' _Marinette can take care of herself without seeing better than I can with night vision'_ before a devastating kick to the stomach left him crumpled and wheezing for breath.

"W-Who are you?" Marinette's stammering but ultimately firm voice broke through the night. "What do you want?"

Sounds of fumbling reached his ears before a bright light shone at his eyes, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut as his vision went crazy, trying to adjust to the sudden light.

A gasp, then a hesitant, "Chat Noir?"

He tried to grin at her, relieved when the light was dangled away from his eyes. "The one and only."

Marinette gaped at him, and for a moment, Chat's rational thinking kicked in. He had the horrible thought that perhaps – just perhaps – this hadn't been the brightest of ideas, before Marinette spluttered, "W-What are you doing here? Is there an akuma?" Her eyes darted around.

"No akuma, Princess," he stated, shifting into a sitting position. "I was just up on my patrol when I saw your figure. Isn't it a little late for a night view?"

"I—your forehead!"

On instinct, he reached up and touched it, a jolt of pain flaring. He winced. "That's going to hurt even more tomorrow."

" _It's bleeding_ ," Marinette hissed.

Well, that was going to be hard to explain to Natalie. Marinette bounced on her feet, shifting worriedly. He aimed a grin her way. "No need to worry about me, Princess, this cat has handled worse."

Marinette hesitated, eyes darting to the trapdoor leading to her bedroom. "Would—would you like to come in? I can clean that up for you and, um, clean the wound? Sorry, I don't have much expertise in that area."

"Sure," Chat blurted out before he could think, and then immediately regretted it. Well, not really.

Marinette sent him an unsure smile, opening up the trapdoor. "Uh, just follow me, I guess."

Soon, Chat found himself in a situation he never thought he would see himself in – wiping blood away before it could reach his eyes, sitting awkwardly on Marinette's computer chair, and trying desperately not to stain anything in Marinette's room while wondering if so much pink ever bothered Marinette or if it was her favorite color.

On the plus side, he had always looked forward to trying new things.

At that moment, Marinette came back with a first aid kit in tow, a wet towel, and a frozen bag of strawberries in her hand. She offered the latter two items to Chat, grimacing. "Sorry, we don't really have much as far as frozen items go."

"It's no problem. You've done so much to help already," he offered back, wiping the blood away with the cloth and gently applying the makeshift icepack.

Marinette scoffed, flicking open the first aid kit. "Yeah, it's the least I could do after I put you in this situation to begin with." She hesitated. "I, um, should bandage it up now? Sorry, I don't have much experience in this but it doesn't look like it's bleeding anymore, so that's good. I just need to disinfect it first." She held up the antiseptic. "Fair warning, this is going to sting a little."

Chat shrugged the best he could from his position. "Your bet is as good as mine. Besides, it'll only be temporary, I'll get _professional_ help back home," he teased.

Her lips twitched to a wry grin, and she rolled her eyes. "Laugh more, and see if I won't kick you out, injury or not."

"Princess, you wouldn't do something so cruel to a cat like me, would you?" He fixed her with his best kitten eyes.

Marinette didn't seem amused, applying the antiseptic without any more preamble. Chat yelped, resisting the urge to flinch back. "Me-ouch, princess! A fair warning would have been appreciated."

"I warned you it would hurt," Marinette shot back, but her touch was more gentle when she applied the antiseptic again.

Chat didn't say anything more as she applied a plaster over the wound, the girl nodding at her work. "I think I did a pretty good job with this."

"Well, you did cause the wound in the first place," Chat joked, rubbing his shin and wincing when he discovered a bruise.

He expected banter, not Marinette gasping and covering her mouth with her hands. "Oh my gosh, I did! That was a pretty hard swing. You could have a concussion or something! What was it they said? You shouldn't sleep for a few hours or something like that? You should really get medical attention—"

"Marinette!" he cut her off with a grin. "I'm fine. I didn't even black out or anything. It's just a cut; I'll be fine." He got up from the chair. "It's getting late now, Princess. I should be getting back soon. We do have school tomorrow."

"Urgh, don't remind me." She watched as he climbed the ladder up to the balcony. "W-wait! I—you can head up first but I want to give you something.

With no further explanation, she disappeared down into the living room, leaving Chat to climb unsurely up to the balcony. The cold winter air hit him immediately, and he took a deep breath, reaching up to touch the covered wound before chuckling quietly. He had only settled into the sunbed chaise longue for a minute or so when the trapdoor swung open again, Marinette pushing a tray out before climbing into the balcony herself.

She switched the fairy lights on, eyes darting before they fell on him. With a sheepish shrug, she lifted the tray and placed it on the table. "A gift for the road?"

He sat up straighter, making out two glasses of milk and a plate of cookies. His ears twitched. "Why, Princess! Is this a gift for your dashing knight?"

"Don't push it," she said dryly. "And besides, don't all cats like milk?"

He took a swig, licking his lips. "In any case, this cat does." He bit into a cookie, an appreciative sound making its way past his lips. "This is really good."

She laughed. "That's what my friend Nino says all the time."

"Well, you can tell him he's a hundred percent right."

The next few minutes were spent teasing each other and laughing. Chat didn't know what he thought when he had landed on Marinette's balcony – that it would be awkward? That there was going to be a near-palpable tension between them? But Adrien had been friends with Marinette for years, and Chat was pleasantly surprised to find himself at ease with her.

And Chat knew – deep down, he knew – that coming back was a bad decision. What if someone saw him? Or worse, what if Hawkmoth saw him? But those were highly unlikely, right? Would it hurt to be selfish just this once?

He didn't voice any of his worries out, instead downing the last of his milk with a satisfied sigh. "Thanks for feeding this cat, Princess."

"Enjoy it while it lasts. I don't make it a habit of entertaining stray cats often."

"Me-ouch, Princess!" He placed a hand to his heart. "There you go with those hurtful words again."

She shook her head, giggling, and gave him a light push. "Go _home_ , Puss-in-Boots."

Chat froze, fixing her with a look. "What did you just call me?"

"Puss-in-Boots. You know, the story?"

He gaped before gasping. "What? I'm _nothing_ like that ginger."

Marinette chortled. "Now that I think of it more, you really are. I mean, you _are_ a cat in boots." She glanced down at his boots, and Chat ignored the urge to hide them. "And your personalities aren't too off from each other."

"Princess, I take offense to that," he told her gravely. "Obviously, this cat is much better." He hopped onto the rail, balancing easily. "And I'll be taking my leave now. Not—" he added when Marinette opened her mouth. "—because you told me to, but because I want to. So there. Besides, I'll be back, Princess. You've fed this stray, and he isn't easy to get rid of."

With that, he jumped off, catching his fall with his baton and springing away before she could protest.

* * *

 

Next time on _Inside and Out_ :

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng was in trouble._

_No, she wasn't in the my-car-is-stuck-in-a-ditch trouble nor was she in the I-had-a-test-but-I-forgot-about-it trouble either. Instead, it was more of an I-accidentally-ranted-about-Chat-and-now-my-best-friend-thinks-I-have-a-crush sort of trouble._

_In her defense, it hadn't started out this way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me in a review who you want to find out first and in which form (Marinette, Ladybug, Adrien, or Chat Noir)! Also, requests are still taken, so leave a review below if you have any!


	5. Stupid Agrestes and Their Stupid Smiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to wonderfulwizardofthozz and socksareforcavemen for editing this chapter.

     MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG WAS IN TROUBLE.

     No, she wasn’t in the my-car-is-stuck-in-a-ditch trouble nor was she in the I-had-a-test-but-I-forgot-about-it trouble either. Instead, it was more of an I-accidentally-ranted-about-Chat-and-now-my-best-friend-thinks-I-have-a-crush sort of trouble.

     In her defense, it hadn’t started out this way.

     Also in her defense, she wasn’t _entirely_ to blame.

     She blamed Nino and Adrien.

     All right, maybe it hadn’t been entirely their fault, but they were the ones who started the snowball that turned into an avalanche. How? By ditching them during lunch. Now, Marinette knew that Adrien had to meet up with his father for something or another, and Nino had a group project that was due soon (his entire group – Nino included – turned out to be procrastinators), but she suspected that those were nothing more than excuses.

     She hadn’t minded too much at first. The past few weeks had been practically _hell_ with projects popping up left and right, so she hadn’t had much time to spend with friends, much less one-on-one time with Alya. And since she was pretty much done with said projects, she was quite content to have some girl-to-girl time, even if it hadn’t been scheduled.

     They had gone to their favorite place – a small café tucked in between two office buildings. The girls ordered their usual, chatted, and caught up on news. Things were going well. Things were good.

     And then she opened her big, fat mouth.

     Now, Marinette may appreciate the time she spent alone with Alya, but she sure didn’t appreciate this topic of conversation.

     Not that it ever stopped Alya.

     “So tell me about this crush of yours again?”

     “It’s not a crush,” Marinette stated immediately.

     Alya rolled her eyes, waving her arm about. “ _Fine._ Tell me about your totally _not_ -crush then.”

     “What’s there to tell?” Marinette defended. “He’s flirty. He’s sweet. He’s kind. And I do _not_ have a crush on him. He’s just a close friend.”

     “Your words beg to differ,” Alya commented. “And you _sure_ I don’t know him? I know a lot of people, if you could just give me a name…”

     “No.”

     “Fine.” Alya sighed, taking a sip of her latte. “So what does this mean? Your crush on Adrien is gone?”

     “Pff,” Marinette scoffed. “As if. Besides, I told you: I do _not_ have a crush on Ch—that boy. So there’s nothing in the way of me and my crush on you-know-who.”

     “What is he, Voldemort?” Alya teased, before leaning forward on her elbows. “So what does mystery boy look like?”

     “Blond hair – _messy,_ blond hair – but it’s like the fluffiest thing ever.” ‘ _Miraculously fluffy’,_ she added to herself, a small smile on her lips. I swear, he has to have put a thousand products in that mess, because it is unnatural. And, um, green eyes – almost glowing in the dark—”

     “Girl, you sure you’re not describing Adrien?” Alya cut in. “Cos it sure sounds like it. Does a certain blond hair, green eyed model ring any bells for you? Remember? You used to have posters of him?”

     “Alya!”

     “What? You know it’s true.”

     “That doesn’t mean you can go and _tell the whole freaking world_ ,” Marinette hissed.

     “Oh, _please_. No one heard everything. And besides, you don’t do that anymore.”

     “It’s the _thought_ that matters,” Marinette huffed. Then, in an effort to steer the conversation away from one Adrien Agreste, she – rather foolishly – added, “Do you want to hear about Ch—‘mystery boy’ or not?”

     “ _Oh_ , there’s _more_?”

     Cackling, Alya dodged the spoon aimed at her. Bummed that she missed the target, Marinette slouched down in her seat, arms crossed and pouting. Her disgruntled expression only served to set Alya off further.

     Marinette huffed. “Fine, be that way. See if I ever tell you anything anymore.” But her lips twitched.

     “No, no, no. _Please_ tell me more,” Alya said, breathless and perhaps a little _too_ dramatically. “I practically _live_ off your news.”

     Marinette sniffed. “As you very well should.”

     Alya smiled at her, head slightly tilted. “But seriously, though, are you all right?”

     Marinette considered, a fluttering feeling arising when the image of Chat’s reassuring grin appeared in her mind. She squashed the feeling down, deep down. “Yeah, I think so.”

     Alya smiled, nodding and taking a bite of her sandwich. She waved a hand in the air. “All right, enough of the sappiness. Tell me more about mystery boy. All I have so far is that he’s cute, blond, and has green eyes. I also can’t know his name. Oh, and he’s not Adrien apparently.”

     Marinette couldn’t fight the small smile that appeared with Alya’s words. “Well, what else do you want to know?”

     Alya grinned. “Oh, Marinette, you don’t ever want to ask me that question or the reporter in me will hound you for information like there’s no tomorrow.” Seeing Marinette’s stricken look, she relented. “But I suppose I could tone it down for today. Just today! Keep that in mind. Now tell me how long you’ve known him.”

     Marinette thought for a while. “As long as I’ve known you, really.”

     Alya whistled. “ _Damn_ , that’s a long time. And I still haven’t met him?”

     “Well, maybe you’ve seen him around once or twice—” _Or like during every akuma attack_. “—but no, not really.”

     “Well, he must be some guy then. And you’ve never noticed him _that way_ before?”

     “Who’s Marinette noticing?” a new voice chimed in.

     “Adrien,” Alya told him, the same moment Marinette blurted out, “Ch-Shaun!”

     _Nice cover up, Marinette,_ she told herself. _Even if you dug yourself into a bigger hole, look at the bright side! You don’t have to refer to Chat as ‘mystery boy’ anymore._

     Alya raised her brows. “Well, guess what? We have a name. Dang, Agreste, you got some _skills_. I could have really used you a few minutes ago.”

     Adrien laughed, pulling up a chair. “Well, I’m at your service now.”

     “How’d you find us?” Marinette asked, willing the blush from her cheeks and the guilt in her stomach.

     “Well,” Adrien began, pulling off his gloves. “First of all, I went to our usual spot, you know? Only to be turned around by the waitress at the door, informing me that you two weren’t here.”

     “I didn’t know we ate there so often,” Alya commented.

     “Yeah, so, I was a little befuddled—”

     “Only you would use a word like ‘befuddled’.”

     “— _until_ ,” Adrien pressed on, a pointed glance at Alya, “I realized that you were probably here. So here I am!”

     “Brilliant! Just in time to help me grill Mari on this new crush of hers.”

     “It’s _not_ a crush!”

     “You mean this Shaun dude?”

     “Yeah, him.” Alya nodded. “Although I didn’t get a name until recently. I see the best friend holds no hold over her secret sharing.”

     “He’s my best friend too,” Marinette muttered.

     “Oh?” said Adrien, and Marinette swore that he had ears of a bat or something – always hearing stuff that was supposed to be left unheard, to say the least. “He is? You’ve known him for long, then?”

     “Ever since she knew _us_ ,” Alya told him conspiringly.

     “That’s a long time,” Adrien said surprised. “I haven’t heard of his Shaun guy at all in these past years. Wait, I know a Shaun from modeling. That one?”

     “No!” Marinette objected. “Besides, I think that Shaun has a boyfriend.”

     Alya snapped, pointing at Marinette. “I know! Shaun from tech class. You know the—”

     “ _Not_ that one either.” Marinette sighed. “Actually, I don’t even know if my, um, Shaun goes to school here.”

     The two figures in front of her froze. Adrien frowned. “Wait, let me get this straight. You’ve known him for _years_ —”

     “—but you don’t know what _school_ he does to?” Alya finished.

     Marinette decided that Adrien and Alya made a very, _very_ dangerous team. “Yeah?” she said. “I mean, we don’t really talk like that. It’s more like—” _We go around battling akumas and making silly bets and asking mundane questions? No, can’t say that._ “—we talk mostly online?”

     “So you’ve never seen him?” Adrien asked, brows furrowing.

     “Oh, no, she has,” Alya reassured him, before turning to Marinette. “And how did _that_ come about? And _online_? Marinette, I would have thought Nino’s talk about cyber danger got through!”

     “Well, by that time, me and … _Shaun_ … were already good friends,” Marinette said, but it ended up sounding more like a question than a statement. “And we, um, video call, yeah. And we have maybe, possibly, sometimes met up?”

     Alya narrowed her eyes. “Do I want to know how _that_ came about?”

     “….no?”

     “Well, _I_ want to know,” Adrien piped up.

     “Well, Mari, you heard the boy.”

     Marinette sent him a forced smile, silently begging him to take back his offer. Either Adrien ignored her pleadings or he really was oblivious, because he continued smiling at her.

     Stupid Agreste and his stupid face and that stupid smile and her stupid inability to resist it.

* * *

Next time on _Inside and Out:_

_“I do_ what _?” Adrien said, perhaps a bit too loudly, because those nearby turned their heads. Where had_ that _come from? His breaths felt short. His face felt hot. He was blushing, wasn’t he?_

_Marinette covered her smile with her hands, trying to stifle her giggles as she nodded. “You do. You have a food face.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me in a review who you want to find out first and in which form (Marinette, Ladybug, Adrien, or Chat Noir)! Also, requests are still taken, so leave a review below if you have any!


	6. The Bruise-ability Of Shins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to wonderfulwizardofthozz and socksareforcavemen for editing this chapter.

     IF THERE WAS EVER A GOOD REASON FOR TAKING BUSINESS STUDIES, IT WAS BECAUSE MARINETTE TOOK IT WITH HIM.

     Believe it or not, it was also a bad reason.

     He wasn’t making any sense anymore. Not even to himself.

     Adrien blamed it on the class and the droning of his teacher that had left the remnants of his brain oozing out his ears like molten lava. That … was a rather interesting image, to be honest.

     His brain, seeping out of his ears as he slowly became the very definition of … brainless? Oozing out. Like cheese. Melted cheese from pizza. Pizza with pepperoni. Now he was craving pizza. Maybe—

     _Ow!_

     Adrien bit back a yell as his leg jerked reflectively and hit the table. Somebody had kicked him!

     …and judging by Marinette’s pointed look, it had been her.

     He rubbed his shin – thankfully not the one with the bruise – and wondered why, exactly, were both his shins being bruised by the same girl. (“Well, at least they match now,” a voice said in his mind, and Adrien wasn’t exactly sure if was Plagg’s or Nino’s). He shot Marinette an affronted look, brows knitting together. “Why?” he mouthed, pouting.

     Marinette gave him an unimpressed look, titling her head at the teacher. “Stop daydreaming,” she whispered back.

     “ _Was not_ ,” he hissed back, voice low.

     Marinette sent him a look that practically screamed, “ _Really_?” She reached out to poke his cheek until his eyes were on the professor. “I can tell when you’re thinking about food, you dork. You make a … face. It’s all wistful and stuff, and it’s kinda cute, really.”

     “I do _what?_ ” Adrien said, perhaps a bit too loudly, because those nearby turned their heads. _Where had_ that _come from?_ His breaths felt short. His face felt hot. He was blushing, wasn’t he?

     Marinette covered her smile with her hands, trying to stifle her giggles as she nodded. “You _do_. You have a food face.”

     He was suddenly reminded of his younger years, modeling in the park with that one photographer who kept talking about spaghetti. Adrien was absolutely disgusted. “ _I do not!”_

     “You do! Ask Nino about it!”

     “I will!” He huffed, crossing his arms, a smile twitching on his lips. “Watch me.”

     Marinette scoffed out a laugh, shoulders shaking and arm reaching out to push Adrien on the shoulder. “ _Hush_ , and let me concentrate. This stuff is important, you know.”

     Adrien twisted his face. Was this stuff really necessary? It was boring. He would rather be in something like … physics. But Marinette was already taking down notes once more, and he had no one to talk to, and Adrien was bored. Now, normally, he would be all for all things school related, but the teacher was going through stuff he already went over with Natalie, and Adrien _knew_ these things.

     So he amused himself by batting at Marinette’s ponytail.

     He had done it five times when she whipped her head to glare at him. “Stop that.”

     “No.”

     “Adrien,” she said in warning.

     “Marinette,” he replied in a slightly mocking tone, grin on his lips.

     “You’re horrible, and I hate you.” She finally settled, picking up her pen once more.

     “Nah,” he said, swinging an arm around her shoulders. “You love me. Admit it.”

     She shrugged his arm off, sending him an unamused look. “So help me, you let me go through the last twenty minutes of this class in peace or you’re not getting brownies for the rest of the week.”

     Suffice to say, he shut up quickly after that, picking up his pen and trying to pay attention to the rest of the class.

 

 

 

     Lunch hour found themselves settling into ‘their’ table at ‘their’ café – the little one on the corner of the street outside the school that served the best hot chocolate.

     “So, tell, me,” Alya said, leaning forwards, “have any of you heard about this Shaun guy?” Well, Adrien had to admit that for all Alya’s faults, she did know how to seize a situation. Marinette had texted them, saying she would be a few minutes late, as she had to stop by the bakery, so it was only the three of them in the café.

     “Who?” Nino asked, brows furrowing. “The bartender downtown? You know, the one—”

     “No.” Adrien sighed. “Not that one. Marinette’s friend, Shaun.”

     Nino stared at him blankly. Alya rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, he doesn’t know anything.” Her lips twitched in a wry smile. “Should have known not to raise my hopes too high.”

     Nino placed his coffee on the table. “First of all, I don’t know whether or not to take offense to that, so I’m just going to ignore it.”

     “Good call,” Adrien said, nodding.

     Nino continued, “And second of all, who is this Shaun dude and why is this the first time I’m hearing about him?”

     “I forgot you weren’t there,” Adrien mused aloud.

     Alya’s knee bounced. “All right, so here’s the scoop. Last week or something, our dear friend Marinette let something slip. What was it? Oh, her secret online friend or something that she’d only known _as long as she’d known us_. No biggie.”

     “What?”

     “Exactly.” Alya nodded in approval. “So, how did we know this? Well, only because she was _ranting_ about him.”

     “Wait, hold on. _Ranting?_ ” repeated Nino. “You mean like when—” He cut his eyes towards Adrien discretely.

     Alya nodded furiously. “ _Yes_. Now, I’m all like, hey, you have a crush, right—”

     Adrien studiously ignored the little feeling in his stomach. It was probably just gas. It certainly wasn’t directed at this Shaun guy. Nor was it because _his_ princess affections had been directed to Shaun instead of him.

     “—but you know Marinette, she’ll deny it to her grave until she figures it out for herself. In which case, well, we get another case of, well, _you know—_ ”

     And it certainly wasn’t because Marinette spoke of Shaun in such a fond tone either, something soft in her eyes and her voice that betrayed how much she cared about this Shaun fellow. And it definitely wasn’t because Adrien was jealous, _what are you talking about_?

     “—which makes no sense, cause according to her, Shaun flirts with her all the time, with pickup lines and little gestures like kissing her hand—”

     “What?” Adrien exclaimed, brought back to the present. “Where was I during all this? Why haven’t I heard of this?”

     “Best friend privileges.” Alya smirked and flashed a peace sign at Adrien. “You weren’t invited, sorry. Not.”

     “I’m her best friend too.” Adrien pouted.

     Alya ignored him. “Of course, Marinette believes it’s all platonic. That Shaun doesn’t really mean any of it. But darn it, the boy took her out for ice-cream the other day!”

     “Are we still talking about Ch—Shaun?” a new voice chimed in.

     For a brief moment, shock and fear and guilt flashed through Adrien. Would Marinette be mad that they had been talking about her? But Marinette only wore an unamused look, a box tucked under her arm and her hand holding a cup of hot chocolate.

     Alya grinned at her unashamedly. “Hey! You made it! What’s in the box?”

     “Brownies,” Marinette said, opening the lid. “Papa sends his regards. And for the last time, Shaun is just a friend.”

     Alya snatched a brownie, pointing it at Marinette. “Girl, you two went out for _ice-cream_ , that’s like the cliché date right there.”

     “I go out for ice-cream with you all the time,” Marinette pointed out. “And it isn’t a date.”

     “Well, I don’t flirt with you and kiss your hand, so there.”

     “Does he really do that?” Nino interrupted, eyes wide.

     “…yes,” Marinette admitted reluctantly.

     “Look! Case in point!”

     “It wasn’t a date,” Marinette insisted. “We had a race, loser bought ice-cream.”

     “So he lost?” Adrien asked.

     “Well, no,” Marinette confessed. “Actually, I lost. But I didn’t have any cash on me, at that time. So he may or may not have coerced me into having ice-cream with him? His treat?”

     Alya swore, wadding up a napkin and throwing it at Marinette. “You got high standards, girl, if you don’t consider that a date.”

     “It’s not,” Marinette insisted. “We’re just friends. Scoot over, Adrien.”

     Adrien did as told, and Marinette slid in next to him, unwrapping the scarf from her neck. She tugged off her gloves and blew on her fingers before wrapping them around her hot chocolate. Adrien grinned. “Cold out?”

     What?

     He wasn’t changing the subject just because he didn’t like talking about Shaun. He really wasn’t.

     “You have _no_ idea. I swear it just gets colder. Isn’t it supposed to be nearing spring already?” Marinette complained.

     Hook. Line. And sinker.

     “Girl, it’s still January,” Alya pointed out, a brow raised.

     Nino frowned, opening his mouth in what Adrien was certain would be a lead-in back to the conversation on Shaun. He kicked his friend’s shin from across the table, noting in Nino’s jerk and wince before the DJ glared at him. Adrien gave him a meaningful look.

     And Nino?

     Nino widened his eyes before sending Adrien a smirk. Adrien narrowed his eyes. Nino waggled his brows and kicked him back. Biting back a curse, because _ow, that was the exact place Marinette kicked him this morning_ , Adrien glared at him.

     ‘ _Payback_ ,’ Nino mouthed.

     …. _Fine._

     Alya cleared her throat, and Adrien glanced up to see both girls staring at them with varying degrees of amusement. The reporter arched a brow. “Wanna bring the facial conversation to the table, boys?”

 

 

 

     Hours later, just as he was getting ready for bed, Adrien’s phone pinged in an incoming message.

     **Nino:** So, Mari, huh?

     Adrien spat out the toothpaste in his mouth, hurriedly rinsing and drying his hands before texting back.

     **Adrien:** It’s not like that

     In less than a minute, the reply came. In five practically simultaneous messages.

     **Nino:** sure it isnt

     **Nino:** U keep telling urself that

     **Nino:** No worries man I got ur back

     **Nino:** Well get ur girl in no time

     **Nino:** ^We’ll

     Adrien had the sudden thought that he might just maybe, possibly, be in trouble.

* * *

Next time on _Inside and Out_ :

_Adrien was out of his seat before he knew it. Although, if he had to be honest, he wasn’t exactly sure if he was going to run and transform or offer his assistance to the prone figure. None of that mattered, though, because, at that moment, the red and black blob untangled itself and two, very familiar, blue eyes blinked at him._

_Adrien … may or may not have choked._

     Ladybug?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me in a review who you want to find out first and in which form (Marinette, Ladybug, Adrien, or Chat Noir)! Also, requests are still taken, so leave a review below if you have any!


	7. One Should Never Be Seen in Boxers in front of Their Crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to wonderfulwizardofthozz and socksareforcavemen for editing this chapter.

     IF ADRIEN AGRESTE COULD GO BACK IN TIME, HE WOULD TELL HIS PAST SELF THAT CHECKING ON THE LADYBLOG BETWEEN 9:30 AND 10:00 IN THE EVENING WAS A BAD IDEA.

     Granted, he would tell his past self a _lot_ of things, but the aforementioned was certainly on the list.

     Somewhere.

     For that matter, leaving the window open – no matter how stuffy the room was – between the mentioned times was also a bad idea.

     No, no, wait. Actually, scratch that. Leaving the window open was a brilliant idea. A fantastic idea, even. After all, he wouldn’t want his Lady to end up with a broken nose or something, would he?

     … yeah.

     The Ladyblog thing still stood though.

     Maybe he should start over.

     It had been a dreary Wednesday. The morning was announced with a drizzle, making the start of the day wet and dreary and bringing down everyone’s moods. All around Paris, people were turning in for the night, looking forward to resting after a hard day’s work.

     As for Adrien Agreste?

     Well, he was sitting in front of his computer monitors, dressed in a ratty, old T-shirt and boxers, because, well, his pajamas were the only thing his father hadn’t fought for control over, and Adrien … Adrien could wear what he pleased without anyone saying anything about it, thank you very much.

     The Ladyblog was open, taking up all three of his computer monitors. A video of the akuma attack earlier in the day (Miss Sunflower had been an … interesting akuma, to say the least) was brought up. He had been running it in the background while completing his homework when he heard it – a soft scream that was somewhat familiar and growing all the while louder with every passing second.

     And then a blur of red and black tumbled through the window, narrowly missing the TV and crashing into the couch, toppling it over.

     Adrien was out of his seat before he knew it. Although, if he had to be honest, he wasn’t exactly sure if he was going to run and transform or offer his assistance to the prone figure. None of that mattered, though, because, at that moment, the red and black blob untangled itself and two, very familiar, blue eyes blinked at him.

     Adrien … may or may not have choked.

     _Ladybug?_

     She opened her mouth – to say _what_ , exactly, he wasn’t sure – but then her eyes darted to his left, and her expression changed. “Is that—”

     With amounting horror, Adrien realized that the Ladyblog was still up on his multiple screens, impossible to miss (the full picture of Ladybug took up nearly a fourth of one of his screens, so yeah, impossible to miss). With a speed that he would later ponder over, he spun on his heel to yank out the power cable to the CPU. _Not_ before letting out what could only be described as a squawk, however, because, well, how else could he be more embarrassed?

     His ears burned as he faced Ladybug again, monitors black and evidence erased. “No!” he said in response to her earlier question, if a tad bit too loudly and late.

     And that, was what led him to the situation he was in now – staring at Ladybug as both of them tried (and failed) to work something out, and wishing all the while that he could just crawl into the floor and _die_.

     Fun times for all.

     Ladybug recovered first, taking the lead, and Adrien was only too happy to follow. She righted herself, brushing the dust off and clearing her throat. “Sorry about that.”

     Looked like they were going to ignore the Ladyblog thing. That was completely fine with him.

     “No worries,” he managed to choke out, somewhere between flailing around and resisting the urge to scream. “Um, are you all right?”

     _Good job, Agreste. Keep the conversation going. Whatever you do, just don’t stand there gawking like a cow, capiche?_

     “You’re great! I-I mean, I’m great! I’m fine! Totally!” Ladybug blushed, biting her lip.

     Adrien floundered. “Y-You’re great too!” he squeaked out.

      Ladybug gaped at him, eyes darting down before pinking and flying back up, and Adrien was suddenly aware that he was wearing a Ladybug themed shirt (Nino had brought him one for his birthday as a gag gift, and Nino shall never know that Adrien wore it to bed) and boxers. He made another strangled noise and all but ran to his closet, grabbing the nearest pair of pants and a jacket before tugging them on.

     To Ladybug’s credit, she didn’t seem _too_ fazed. Instead, she cleared her throat – the noise loud in the quiet room – and turned to push the couch back to its original position. “Right, um, thanks.”

     Adrien nodded vigorously.

     Ladybug glanced at the window, cheeks still slightly red (this was a bad moment to realize just how cute she was). “Sorry about crashing into your room. I-I guess I’ll be taking my leave now. Goodnight, Adrien.”

     “You know my name?” Adrien blurted out before he could rethink it. After all, they’d only met once, right? With him as Adrien and not Chat? During that one incident with the hypnotist. No, wait, there was that incident with Lila too. And his face was plastered all over the streets of Paris, _why_ wouldn’t _she remember his name_? “Oh, uh, never mind.”

     But Ladybug smiled at him gently (his heart skipped a beat or two). “Of course I remember your name, Adrien.” Then she faltered. “Not that I was stalking you or anything! I just – I mean – we did meet before, and—”

     “Thank you,” he interrupted her softly.

     She probably remembered everyone she’d met, all the akuma victims, etc. Ladybug had a lot of connections. Look at the way she addressed Alya and that little girl by name when they were stuck inside the ice globe thing during that incident with the weather girl. Or the way she gave Alya exclusive interviews even though Alya wasn’t a professional reporter…yet (Adrien knew how Ladybug’s interviews always made Alya’s week). Or the time she asked Chat to watch over Marinette when Nathaniel was akumatised. And sure, Ladybug had her flaws and all, but she always fixed the problems she caused, and never denied them.

     And Adrien was in love.

     Ladybug smiled at him, before walking to the window. “Well, have a good night, then.”

     “Be careful,” he said, a thought occurring to him. “You don’t want to crash into anybody else’s bedroom.”

     To his delight, Ladybug took his teasing well, laughing and making a face at him. “Hush you. It’s not my fault Parisian rooftops are slippery.” She frowned at her feet. “I’ll have to see if I can do something about that.”

     “Slippery?” Adrien repeated, confused.

     “Well,” Ladybug began, hopping on the windowsill. “You know how it rains and snows? Yeah, well, when it freezes up, it’s…icy. And they may salt the roads, but they certainly do not salt rooftops.”

     “ _Oh_.”

     “So don’t go around walking on rooftops, got it?” she teased ( _if only she knew_ ). Ladybug swung her yoyo and gave him a two-fingered salute. “Well, see you later, hot stuff.”

     With the tug of the line, she was gone, soaring over the rooftops, outlined by moonlight. And Adrien was left gaping, staring until he couldn’t see her silhouette anymore.

     “You gonna stand there all night, lover boy?”

     And…there was Plagg.

     Adrien reached up to close his window, pausing for a second before stripping out of his pants (he had never put on a pair of jeans so fast in his life). “Isn’t she great, Plagg?”

     Plagg gagged. “Oh no, not _this_ again.”

     Adrien stuck his tongue out at the kwami. “You just don’t understand.”

     “You’re right. I don’t. And I don’t want to either. I’ll stick with my cheese, thank you very much.”

     Adrien leaned back into his chair, staring glumly at the pile on homework on his desk. “Urgh, I don’t feel like doing this anymore. This sucks.”

     “It does.”

     “I was talking about homework, Plagg.”

     The kwami paused, having been ready to swallow a piece of Camembert whole. “Oh. Well, that sucks too.”

     Adrien had barely made it through one of the math questions when his computer beeped, a video call invitation flashing on screen. _Alya? What did she want at this time of night?_ He accepted the call, and found himself face to face with both Alya and Nino.

     _Group video chat?_

     “Guys?”

     Nino frowned. “Yeah, don’t ask. A certain reporter has something to share with us, but she won’t say anything until everyone’s here. Don’t understand why this couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

     “Where’s Mari when you need her?” Alya complained, ignoring Nino and nearly bouncing in her seat.

     As if on cue, Marinette’s face took up another corner of the screen, slightly flushed and hair a bit damp. “What’s going on?”

* * *

 

Next time on _Inside and Out:_

_"Secret Valentines? We were talking about that?" Marinette asked, in an attempt to veer the conversation back on path. She yawned. "Personally, I'd like to finish sometime today?"_

_Alya made a face. "Fine. So you know Secret Santa, but like Secret_ Valentine _instead. Like, between friends, cause, let's face it, Valentine's Day is just a single awareness day, and we should do something fun!"_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me in a review who you want to find out first and in which form (Marinette, Ladybug, Adrien, or Chat Noir)! Also, requests are still taken, so leave a comment below if you have any!


	8. What Does a Girl Have to Do to Get Some Sleep?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. Sorry this is so late. My computer got a virus, and my files were all encrypted. Fortunately, I was able to recover most of them, and well, you're all lucky this chapter wasn't lost. Anyway, thanks to socksareforcavemen for betareading.

     MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG WAS A SIMPLE GIRL REALLY.

     Sure, there were times when she asked for  fabrics or dug herself so deep into a hole that she couldn’t see the sun anymore and had to ask for help, _but_ she didn’t ask for much. Well, at least, she liked to believe that.

     So was it really too much to ask if she could just fall into her bed and sleep?

     Apparently, _yes_. Yes, it was.

     Okay, so maybe some of it was her fault.

     Like, she _knew_ that she was already feeling tired, so she should have just changed and brushed her teeth before heading out for patrol. And she _knew_ that she had taken the time to plan a much shorter patrol route across the more ‘popular’ bits of Paris, but she still decided to take the longer (and more effective) route (and okay, maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, but she was starting to regret her decision now). _And_ she really should have known that consuming caffeine to get her through homework was a bad decision when the inevitable sugar crash came, and okay, maybe it _was_ her fault.

     But did it really deserve a video call near midnight? And such good timing too, just when she jumped down from her balcony and detransformed.

     “What’s going on?” Marinette bit out, the moment the call connected, then dialing it back a few tones because _her friends didn’t deserve her cranky mood, they don’t know about the patrols_.

     Nino seemed to have mixed emotions as his face warred between amused, frustrated, and entirely _done_ with the whole thing. And Adrien was strangely…dazed, which was rather unusual for the boy. Marinette frowned slightly, but was torn out from her thoughts by _not-so-soft_ cry of victory.

     “Great! Everyone’s here,” Alya plowed through, getting to the point so fast Marinette was sure she was getting whiplash. “Now, you know Secret Santas, right?”

     And before anyone could comment, Alya was already speaking once more. “Oh, who am I kidding, of course you do. We did one for class. The week before school let out.”

     “I—Alya— _What_?” Marinette spluttered out, somewhere between not falling asleep and trying to pierce everything together.

     Alya’s brows furrowed. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep on your feet,” she commented.

     “I am,” Marinette interrupted dryly.

     Alya plowed on regardless. “So I’ll keep this short—”

     Apparently, Ladybug’s supposed good luck was a myth (or it didn’t carry to her civilian self) because at that moment, the video froze and audio fizzed out. Marinette could have cursed her internet connection. Her eye twitched. And all right, it was far fetched but Marinette was desperate, and before she knew it, Tikki had been gently relocated to the top of her computer monitor and video was back.

     “—something fun!”

     “Sorry, Alya,” Marinette spoke, before the boys could add their input. “Could you repeat that? Wifi’s bad up here.” And fickle as hell.

     “Secret Valentine’s,” Adrien explained, before Alya could.

     “Oh, so I turn my back, and you steal my thunder?” Alya exclaimed. “ _Rude_.”

     Adrien rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “You already explained it, Alya.”

     “Thunder-stealer,” the girl shot back, not letting it go in the slightest.

     “Secret Valentines? We were talking about that?” Marinette asked, in an attempt to veer the conversation back on path. She yawned. “Personally, I’d like to finish sometime today?”

     Alya made a face. “Fine. So you know Secret Santa, but like Secret _Valentine_ instead. Like, between friends, cause, let’s face it, Valentine’s Day is just a single awareness day, and we should do something fun!”

     There was a beat of silence before Adrien spoke. “You mean like giving each other gifts?” he asked slowly, a disbelieving tone in his voice.

     “Yup!” Alya beamed.

     Adrien gave her an incredulous look. “And this couldn’t wait till tomorrow … why?”

     Alya looked sheepish. “I wanted to give you the longest allotted time for preparation?”

     Marinette loved her best friend, she really did, but sometimes Marinette wanted to throttle Alya and her lack of impulse control (chasing akumas down at a spur of the moment did _not_ help to discourage anything, despite the number of times Alya had ended up in the crossfire of said akuma attacks). And she really should have been even the slightest bit peeved, but Marinette could only summon the energy to snort. “You just want a reason to receive presents, don’t you?”

     Alya stuck her tongue out. “Quiet you. And it’s tomorrow anyway, right?”

     Sure enough, it was past midnight, but no one was amused by this reveal.

     “ _Dude_ ,” Nino drawled out, shaking his head. “You gotta work on that impulse control.” He sighed, grinning ruefully. “But I suppose it can’t be too bad. I’m in.”

     “What do you mean ‘too bad’?” Alya exclaimed, as Marinette and Adrien voiced their support.

     Adrien chuckled. “So, how are we going to do this?”

     “Okay, first rule, nothing more than ten euros,” Alya said, sending a pointed look to whom Marinette could only assume to be Adrien.

     “Fifty,” Adrien immediately shot back.

     They all gave him incredulous looks. “ _Twenty-five_ ,” Alya relented. “Not all of us are as loaded, golden boy. And besides, it gives you a chance to curb your shopping problem—”

     “—I do _not_ have a shopping problem!”

     “—and try out something homemade or cheap.”

     “Fine,” Adrien gave in. “Due date?”

     “Valentine’s Day,” Alya said, as if it should have been obvious. _Only one problem…_

     “But that’s on a Tuesday,” Marinette complained. “And we have class the next day. Let’s make it Saturday, and add in a sleepover or something.”

     “Sounds like an idea,” Alya agreed, nodding.

     “Um, guys,” Nino interrupted, jerking his thumb to his right (and Marinette had to wonder how he knew Adrien’s little box was next to him on the screen), “you’re forgetting about golden boy over here. His father still keeps him on a tight leash.”

     “For the last time Nino, I’m not a dog.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “But um, Nino’s right. I don’t know if my father will allow me to go on a sleepover, especially a co-ed one.”

     “You’re coming, Agreste,” Alya insisted. “We’ll kidnap you ourselves if it comes to it. He can’t keep you at home forever, especially with graduation and your freedom looming in the horizon.”

     “Yeah,” Marinette agreed. “Don’t worry, we’ll come up with a battle plan. Get Nathalie on our side. Your father’s always more inclined to allow something if she agrees with it. Set everything up, and tell him at the last minute, so he can’t argue because it’s all arranged already.”

     Everybody paused, and Marinette could swear they all managed to meet her in the eye, even through the screen. She flushed. “What?”

     “I—That’s a really detailed plan, Marinette,” Nino commented.

     “And … it might work,” Adrien admitted.

     “Oh yeah! That’s my best friend! Class rep, people!” Alya grinned. “Mari, I’m coming to your house right now for a hug.”

     “Alya, _no_. Impulse control. My parents are asleep, and I’m supposed to be too. So are you three, for that matter. Now, let’s get the whole thing over with quickly. How are we going to do this?”

     “Party pooper,” Alya accused, as Adrien joked, “Pick names out of a hat?”

     Without missing a beat, Alya added, “Exactly”, and took out a hat before placing it on her desk.

     Nino groaned. “Oh my word, she really did it.”

     Marinette could sympathize.

     The reporter ignored him. “Nino, you’re up first. You two, close your eyes until Nino says you can open them.”

     “And what about you, Alya?” Adrien asked, already closing his eyes.

     Marinette held back a snort. Beneath that exterior, Adrien was just as (if not more) excited about the whole endeavor than Alya was.

     “I won’t look,” Alya swore. “I’ll just hold it up near the camera until Nino can read it and fold it back when it’s done. And then the last name will be mine.”

     A few minutes later, it was Marinette’s turn, Nino and Adrien having gone. She looked at the name on the screen, slightly blurry but readable all the same.

     ADRIEN. 

* * *

_Next time on_ Inside and Out:

_Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Adrien was certainly desperate._

_He hadn't thought it would be hard. Twenty-five euros for a gift? Well, it wasn't a fifty but he'd take what he could get. Besides, it was Nino, his best friend. Well, they all were, but that wasn't the point. The point was that this would be easy. Right?_

_Apparently, he was wrong. So wrong._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't exactly have a fixed schedule as far as updating goes, but I try to post a new chapter every week or two, if all goes well.

**Author's Note:**

> Taking requests!


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